


Rat in The Kitchen

by Starryoak



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gen, General Low Stakes Doofery, Kid Fic, L (Death Note) is a Dick, L is a Spoiled Brat, Shenanigans, There's A Tag For That, Wammy’s Era, Wammy’s House, and I think that spoke to me, could be mildly ooc, no beta we die like men, not sure, or like people who never beta anything, saw someone tag their fic that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 10:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starryoak/pseuds/Starryoak
Summary: An attendant at Wammy’s House hears some noises in the kitchen one night and goes to to investigate.
Relationships: L & Watari | Quillsh Wammy
Comments: 11
Kudos: 25





	Rat in The Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

> Not going to lie, this is an old fic from sometime in June 2018 or about (the earliest draft I can find is from June, anyway.) and was written as possibly being a whole longer thing about all the behaviors L exhibits that made him a spoiled little brat (even as an adult). But I abandoned it, then found it again in December and reread it.  
> I decided while technically an unfinished work, this was a complete enough narrative to post on its own. Then I sat on it until January because I was apprehensive about posting it, and now we’re here.  
> I was less focused on any accurate characterization so much as making L as an 8 year old a spoiled little shit, so I’m not sure if it’s actually in or out of character, though I certainly envision 8yo L as little shit. It’s a complete work and I have no interest in finishing it any further, so enjoy!

For years, Wammy’s house was filled with brilliant minds, orphans of high intelligence were brought to the state of the art orphanage to be given opportunities other children could only dream of. But the whole of the dynamic changed the day a small boy with a letter as his only name entered the premises.

The eight year old boy was named L, last name Lawliet, as far as anyone could ascertain, he simply did not have anything more to his name. He was simply L, a single letter, and an odd last name that was pronounced just as strangely; ‘Law-light’. It wasn't some long name with any hard letters, simply an unconventional pronunciation.

Brought in personally by Quillsh Wammy himself, the boy was owlish, pale and fragile. He suckled on his thumb as if a much younger child, and his clothes hung loose over his stick thin frame, not devoid of baby fat, but it was somehow less apparent on him than most children his age.

His hair was a wild, untamed mess of jet black locks that stuck out like a porcupine’s. His eyes were set deep in his head, giving him a sallow, sunken in look, as if his eyes bulged out of their sockets, dark rings encircling them and making him look almost like a raccoon. But the most unnerving thing about him was not the physical qualities of his appearance, but the way he would look at you.

His pupils and iris shared the same black color, iris only slightly lighter if one looked closely. It was as if light was simply absorbed by them and never reflected, just like the information those eyes gathered, never to be seen again. He scanned things with the precision of a machine and the judgement of an authority figure many times his age.

The first impression he would give an onlooker was that of a lanky, overgrown frog of sorts, his thin frame and bulging eyes, paired with his most unusual of movements made the comparison ever so apt. The boy walked hunched over, and sat in a manner almost like the fetal position, all of his weight being born on his toes as he crouched and sat his elbows to rest on his knees, which were drawn up to his face.

And yet, all of the strange appearances and physical mannerisms paled in comparison to the anomalies his mentality presented.

To put it simply, the boy was a genius. But then again, Wammy’s House was specifically for genii, so that was somewhat of an expectation. But the children of Wammy’s all paled in comparison to L, who outshone them all without ever even realizing it. Of course, he wasn't even just a typical child genius; that would have just been too normal for L.

No, he did not excel at the traditional facets of a prodigy; he knew no instruments and held no talent for melodies, nor did he take a shine to literature or science. The only traditional thing L was good at was a frightening memorization of facts and statistics, percentages and probabilities were his forte. But there was more to that.

His eyes, judgmental and scanning, quickly absorbed everything about the person he would look at, and with startling accuracy and intuition far beyond his years, could predict with quite some certainty the person’s intentions and motivations.

He didn't seem to collect information like some Holmesian detective, rarely did he seem to take in physical appearances or know the origins of each and every facet of the person he would study; rather, he seemed to understand the thought processes of his fellow man intimately, and had no problems sharing this fact, treating it in a matter of fact manner that he was infallibly correct about predicting others.

But, like any mortal, and even more prudently, like any child, L was not flawless in his reasoning or accurate at every level. Yes, he was frighteningly able to predict others, but his intuition was not yet at the level it one day would be, and the boy was occasionally prone to bias and misinterpretations of actions, especially if it was centered around personal interactions with himself.

Now if only the little brat could admit that, it would not be a problem, rather an obstacle to overcome. But L refused to ever admit defeat or error in his way of thinking, even when presented with irrefutable evidence, he seemed to be able to weasel and justify his way out of ever accepting his analysis was faulty.

This was demonstrated in a shockingly quick manner from the day L was brought in. When Mr. Wammy had left him alone to begin filling out forms and other such work for the transfer from his previous orphanage to Wammy’s House, he hadn't expected any trouble at all; but only an hour in to his work, tracing the long string of previous transfers, Roger came in the door to inform him that the newest member of the orphanage had assaulted the staff.

Not knowing L to be a violent child (though he admittedly didn't know him for long as of yet), Wammy rushed himself over to the scene of the incident, only to find the boy as the only person still standing in the room. He was chewing on his thumb with a blank stare, as if lost in thought somewhere far away. The attendants had been kicked to the ground and were on the floor still, six of them in all, all subdued by the small child at the center of the storm.

“What the devil is going on here?” Wammy exclaimed, in total shock. At second glance, however, while the younger attendants had all been knocked to the floor, they were not hurt as he had feared, but rather winded and staying down for fear of being kicked back down again. Still an unpleasant scene, but certainly not the one he had assume.

“They were attempting to employ violence on me.” L said simply, suckling on his thumb with an eerie gaze. “They exclaimed that I was a new face and their desire to ‘cuddle’ me.” He continued, clearly perturbed as he said the word ‘cuddle’ as if it was dirty to think of. Most of the attendants were staring at Wammy in a way that stated that they had done no such thing, while one looked mildly guilty. He must have been overly enamored with the child and started this mess.

“Lawliet-“ Wammy began, with disappointment coating his voice, before being interrupted.

“They started the altercation.” L stated, less in protest and more as if this was an obvious and indisputable fact. “I simply retaliated in kind.” He explained, before a strange pause. “After all, I am justice.” He did not treat that statement with any of the gravity that one would assume, still monotone and dull, but something in his coal black eyes burned with fire as he said it.

This would later be looked on as what most would call a warning sign.

Young L was intensely obsessed with justice, in both the abstract and lawful sense, and his obsession with mystery was only eclipsed by his ability to solve them and suck any mystique out of them. Any element of uncertainty had to be sucked out of the equation for him to feel comfortable, and he was exceedingly good at it.

Father Christmas lasted for exactly one minute that year before Lawliet spoiled it, demanding that Roger be truthful about his existence to him; there was to be no lying to him without it being exposed as a falsehood, and they later discovered he had somehow deduced the contents of all the gifts in the orphanage simply through what he called logical deduction.  
Needless to say, Lawliet was banned from participating in the greater sum of the holidays involving other children. Originally, he was simply banned from all of it, but Wammy reasoned that the boy simply did not appreciate untruths, and shouldn't be punished for upholding his sense of belief.

This might have been only to stem the wrath he would face from the child for preventing access to the one thing that L seemed to treasure more than justice; sugar. He was absolutely obsessed with sweets, to the point that the staff of Wammy’s would bet that had he the option, he would consume nothing but pastries and candy, perhaps fruit if they were generous.  
As it stood, he was a meticulously picky eater, not just in how he ate (or refused to eat) food he disliked, but even the food he did, transferring his strange mannerisms in the way he held things by their tips with as few fingers as possible, into how he would use his fork. He barely seemed to chew his food, but somehow, paradoxically, he was capable of polishing off an entire cake in minutes, even though the way he ate was deliberate and almost hedonistically slow.

They discovered that this obsession went beyond merely enjoying the taste of sweets over anything savory like many boys his age, his distaste for meat and vegetables became more apparent and severe over time, and within a few months of being at the orphanage, even the healthier foods he would deign worthy of eating had to be bread or fruit if he was to even touch them. They would have to do something about this soon, but the boy was stubborn.

The staff were at a loss as to what to do with L and his eating habits to ensure he actually had a healthy diet. L seemingly did nothing but cause mischief during the day. And then, one night, one man who worked there saw something extraordinary, that in retrospect… was not at all unexpected.

One of the attendants had heard noises in the kitchen, small enough that he assumed he would be calling for an exterminator, phone ready to be dialed, he stepped into the room, expecting the rodents to scatter.  
Instead, on the counter, sitting in the manner he felt most comfortable, was young Lawliet, scratching his feet with one another and causing the noises that the attendant had assumed were the scratching of rodent claws on the ceramic.

The boy was holding in his hands a bag of pure sugar, occasionally taking a handful out and eating the raw sugar with his bare hands. As the lights turned on, he went stock still and slowly turned his head in a manner not dissimilar to an owl to stare straight at the attendant, pupils dilated from the dark and quickly narrowing as they focused directly on him. There was a palpable silence between the two as L continued to stare directly at the man, not moving. Then, after a second or two of this stunned silence, L lifted the handful of sugar he had and continued eating, maintaining direct eye contact the entire time he did so, as if daring the man to say anything. He eventually turned his full attention back to stuffing his face with sugar as if nothing had happened, or that the man was not in the room.

“What are you doing?” The attendant decided to breach the silence, feeling an almost intangible pressure grow stronger on him, L narrowing his eyes slightly.

“I believe you are completely aware of what I'm doing.” L’s monotone voice was tinted with annoyance. “Please try another question, this time, not one we both know the answer to.” He commanded with a strange authority.

“Why are you up at one o’clock in the morning?” The attendant paused as L huffed in annoyance as if it was obvious. “And why are you eating sugar straight out of the bag?” He was simply too stunned to consider moving, or doing anything but question the boy for some form of explanation for the bizarre actions.

“I was hungry.” L said simply, pausing to shovel another handful of sugar into his mouth. “I woke up and chose to do something about it.”

“You can't just do that!” The attendant was hesitant to move forward to accost L, as he vividly remembered being kicked down by the shockingly strong child.

“And why not?”

“Because… Because it's against the rules?” The attendant was slightly taken aback by the sheer fact that L was even asking, and struggled for a second to find his voice.

“I have not broken any rules.” L looked almost hurt at the implication that he was breaking the ‘law’ as it were.

“Curfew is nine PM sharp.”

“Unless you have to use the restroom.” Lawliet countered. “I filled out the proper form.” He did not stop eating the sugar, but set the bag down so he could use his sugar free hand to ruffle through his jeans, fishing out a crumpled set of papers. “As long as one checks in and out at the allotted times, and indicate ones reasons for any extended absences, everything is perfectly legal.”

“That can't be right…” L slipped the hall pass over to the attendant, who was too stunned to even think of solving the problem by force. But the forms were indeed filled out, with L having indicated both the request for bathroom leave and even, in his unreadable cursive, his desire to get food from the kitchen. “You've been using a loophole.” For his statement, he received a condescending stare of disapproval from the eight year old boy that felt more like a scathing condemnation from a superior.

“Indeed.” Lawliet said through a mouthful of sugar, swallowing. “But I have followed the letter of the law.” He said, folding up the empty bag… by god, he had eaten the entire bag? Folding up the empty remains of the sugar bag, he deftly jumped down to the floor and deposited the bag in the trash bin.  
“Now, if you don't mind, I would like to return to my room before my hall pass expires. I wouldn't want to break any rules.” It was almost impossible to tell if L was joking or serious from his complete monotone, but the attendant swore it was some form of smug sarcasm that the boy had delivered that last sentence with. L walked straight out of the room before the stunned man could stop him, intent on returning to his room as if this incident had not even occurred.

“Wait just a minute, young man!” The attendant steeled himself for the possible kick to the face this act might incur from the boy, and grabbed Lawliet by the shoulders. As expected, this did not sit well with L, who began violently struggling against him.

“Let go of me!” The boy almost sounded angry, leaving his flat tone for a moment while he struggled. “I have demonstrated that I did not break any rules, you are holding me against my will!” Lawliet complained of the injustices thrust upon him even as the attendant failed to acknowledge them, tightening his grip on the scrawny child and setting his eyes on Wammy’s office.  
The young boy only truly seemed to listen to, or even respect, one other person on the face of the earth, and that person was Mr. Quillsh Wammy. Perhaps it was the fact that Wammy had been the man to discover and bring L to the orphanage from his previous institution, or perhaps it was that even in an orphanage for geniuses, L believed only the elderly man to be on his level of intellect.

“Please quiet down, you're making a scene!” The attendant spoke in hushed tones to the boy, who was struggling with all of his might to make carrying him as difficult as possible. Lawliet may have been inordinately strong for his age, but he was still an eight year old child, and not a particularly large one at that. He had overpowered the attendants before more out of sheer surprise and an unwillingness to harm the new child, now the man had the upper hand, however difficult Lawliet was attempting to make it for him.

“Because you are holding me against my will, and intend to unlawfully charge me for crimes I did not commit!” Lawliet retorted bitterly, attempting to elbow the attendant in the gut. He was stopped, however, when there was a creaking of the door to Mr. Wammy’s office. The elderly orphanage owner had a tendency to stay up late that the attendant had been banking on to save him, and indeed it had.

“Wammy, sir, thank goodness!” The attendant sighed in relief as Lawliet stopped struggling in his arms.

“My dear boy, are you quite aware that it is nearing two AM in the morning? What are you doing carrying young Mr. Lawliet in your arms like that?” Quillsh Wammy was not a man easily flustered, but the sight of one of his younger attendants carrying a small, rather displeased looking child in his arms did indeed seem quite odd to him. Not even mentioning the boy in question was L Lawliet, one of Wammy’s most promising and yet most odd charges in many years.

“I believe Lawliet here can explain it better than I, sir.” The attendant glared down at the boy in his arms, who casually stuck his tongue out for the briefest of moments, to the point where the man wondered if he had hallucinated it. He let L down, confident now that he wouldn't run off in sight of Wammy, and both walked into the office to explain themselves.

* * *

“And therefore, I have been making nightly visits to the kitchen, completely lawfully, for about five days now.” Lawliet explained, almost infuriatingly confident in his innocence, at least in the opinion of the attendant, who was quite frustrated that Wammy had let the boy speak first. “While I have not followed the spirit of the law, I have not broken the letter.” He added, treating the man’s office as if it were a court of law.

“And you have been getting by the curfew with hall passes?” Wammy asked to confirm, and L nodded. He looked over the hastily scrawled hall pass that the attendant had been given and passed on to him. It appeared as though L had been exploiting the low lighting at night and the human brain’s tendency to mentally correct things that seemed off by writing the leaving and return dates as 10:30 and 01:45, respectively, and his sloppy handwriting to cover his notes, which would be glanced over anyway. Indeed, it seemed Roger had signed off on these without incident.

“Aren't you going to punish him, sir?” The attendant asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly. Truth be told, he just didn't like the smug child’s attitude and odd behavior, or his strange appearance, constantly staring. None of the attendants did, but they kept quiet as Wammy seemed to favor the child heavily.

“Well, technically, he did get these approved properly…” Wammy admitted, seemingly impressed by the boy’s ingenuity to get what he wanted without technically breaking the rules he so valued.

“Thank you, Mr. Wammy.” L smirked, but was cut off by the attendant.

“You can't be serious, sir!” He proclaimed angrily. “Regardless of whether he followed the letter of the law, he obviously violated the intent of it!”

“Calm down, my boy.” The attendant bristled as Wammy seemingly unknowingly spoke down to him. “Just because he got them approved properly does not mean he is going unpunished.” Wammy continued, Lawliet looking utterly betrayed, but stayed silent as Wammy continued. “However, first and foremost, this is an oversight of the staff.” He explained. “Any child could have, and possibly has, used similar trickery to fool the staff, possibly for far worse misdeeds than simply sneaking into the kitchen, and the blame for that lies on us for not being properly cautious and vigilant about our rules.”

“First though, shouldn't we punish Lawliet?” The attendant stared at the boy, frustrated.

“I believe you are right…” Wammy hemmed, slightly at a loss as to what to do to punish the boy that would have a lasting effect, or even bother him. It was simply impossible to tell what would honestly give the boy pause. “I suppose the very fact that you have been discovered will suffice, and that you will no longer be allowed to do this any longer. Loophole or no, you are banned from the kitchen, before or after hours.” Wammy mused, as Lawliet looked as though he had personally witnessed his favorite pet puppy get kicked into a mud puddle and then been told he would never see said puppy again. In other words, Lawliet could be described as not having a particularly pleasant night.

“Sir? Isn’t that a little lenient?” The attendant asked, confused. “He’s been breaking the rules for months now!”

“And it took you directly catching me in the act to be discovered. If I had been more careful, you would have been none the wiser.” L said, almost petulantly.

“I think, at least for tonight, I’d much rather put the matter to bed and discuss it in the morning.” Quillsh admitted. “We can decide on the appropriate discussion then, but at the very least it should be known that we’ll be closing this loophole.”

“Fine.” The attendant said, sighing and ushering L towards the door. “Let’s just get you to bed, ok?” He asked, in a way that implied that this was not actually a request. L paused for a moment and bowed his head, following the man out of the room.

Next time, or at least, next scheme, he’d have to be more careful.


End file.
